Wham, Bam, Thank You Glam
by Madame-Mew-Mew
Summary: In the 80s a young Charlie meets Pickles during his time with SNB, which results in his following the band on tour as a groupie.  P/C, Candy/Snizzy, Pickles/Tony, and more.
1. Chapter 1: Sweet Child O' Mine

The brunette stood transfixed on the floor of the night club. He wore his school uniform, khakis, tie, white button up and blazer. His long brown hair neatly tied back, and his glasses on, he didn't fit in with the rock club crowd with their knowing smiles and skin tight leather. He stared worshipfully at the glorious wildly dressed musicians on stage, long teased hair and bright makeup. They postured aggressively for the crowd, matching their music, the redheaded vocalist giving them all a sultry look. Charles watched Snakes N' Barrels, all of seventeen and fresh out of Exeter. He'd just graduated that day, and this was his choice of reward. His parents were in Europe, and so here he was seeing his favorite band.

On stage the redhead stomped and gyrated against his guitar, tossing his hair and smirking. He knew he was gorgeous, knew he was adored. He smirked, catching sight of the prim young man staring up, awe struck from the bacchanalian crowd. Oh, he knew he'd be taking back stage after this show.

When their set finished he hopped off stage, moving through the crowd towards the brunette. "Hey der'" he said with a rakish grin. Charles had to stifle a gasp when he realized that Red, his idol, was speaking to him.

"H-hi," he stammered shyly, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"What's yer name, kid?" asked Red looking him up and down, who really couldn't have been much older than Charles.

"I'm Charles... or Charlie," he replied, surprised he'd managed to remember his name so overwhelmed with the presence of the redheaded rock god in front of him.

"So, what's a nice boy like you doin' in a place like this?" asked Pickles with a smirk.

Charles flushed, reminded of his less than apropos attire. "I just graduated from highschool," he admitted, "like... today."

Pickles smiled, god could this one get any cuter?

"So what yer sayin is, you aint actually that much of a goody goody, huh?" said the rockstar.

"I mean... I don't know, I guess..." said Charles flushing.

"Christ yer cute," the rockstar responded with a wicked grin, "C'mon back stage, I'll introduce you to the band." At that statement, all bets were off. Charles again had to keep from screaming in fanboyish glee.

"Y-y-yes," said Charles allowing himself to be lead off. Red lead him backstage. "C'mon, you're partyin' with us tonight," he said, allowing for no arguments, not that Charles would have made any.

The brunette followed heart fluttering in his chest, back stage Snizzy, Candy and Tony were all sprawled in the green room with bottles of liquor and a few scantily clad girls. At Red's entrance they looked up, shoving the groupies to the side.

"Hey, look what Red brought back," said Snizzy with a broad smirk.

"Cute," said Candy with a wolfish smile, giving Red an appreciative nod. Charlie flushed.

"I- can't believe I'm here," squeaked Charlie, awe struck to be surrounded by the members of his favorite. Red grinned, enjoying the slightly hint of envy radiating from the others, groupies were a dime a dozen, a sweet little virgin like Charlie? Well that was a rarity.

"Tony, Snizzy, Candy, meet Charlie," he said, waving towards them. "Tony, get our new friend a drink."

"Nice to meet you, catch," said Tony, tossing him a bottle of rum. Charlie caught it awkwardly. He'd never drunk hard liquor before, never anything other than a forbidden beer at the occasional party. Still, this was Snakes N' Barrels, and so off came the cap and he took a swig. It burned, but not as badly as he'd expected. He managed to cover the wince, but Red noticed.

"Tony, we got anything to mix that with?" he asked, leading Charles to a seat on the sofa. Tony nodded and came up with a plastic cup and some cranberry juice, mixing a strong drink and giving it to the new comer.

"So, yer from some private school, huh?" asked the redhead with a raised brow, eyeing the other's uniform.

"Exeter," he said, blushing more, knowing his expensive private school education didn't exactly help him fit in with the rock gods that surrounded him.

"Dood, so yer pretty smart den, huh?" said Pickles, as Charlie sipped his drink, much more bearable than straight liquor. Pickles himself was gifted, he'd been on the verge of graduating two years early when he'd left home, but his family had driven him out before he'd finished. Not that he regretted it, being a rockstar seemed to him a pretty good recompense for not graduating high school.

"Yeah, I guess," the brunette said with a little laugh, the liquor was beginning to hit him, and the sweet aromatic smoke filling the room seemed to make reality a little fuzzy. The building had been a theater in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, and the furnishings here had remained unchanged, velvet sofas with ornately carved wood details, oriental rugs, and antique mirrors made the smokey room look even more mythic, even more like a scene from another time, another world. Red put a hand on Charlie's thigh, as they talked, about the brunette's education, about the band's upcoming album. Red told road stories and got Charles laughing, Charles told spoiled rich kid stories and got Red laughing. Red found himself thinking this one would be more than another virginity for his collection, this charming, unconsciously sexy, potentially gorgeous, deliciously corruptible prep school boy was something he wanted for more than a quick fuck.

After a drink more Charles was in the redhead's lap, hair out of its pony tail hanging in chestnut waves about his shoulders, with his blazer half off. The vocalist's hands slid over Charles's body, fingers itching to get under his shirt, to yank off the tie. Finally, he could resist no longer.

"How bout' we find some privacy dere, chief?" he suggested, giving the other a lustful look. Charles agreed with drunken enthusiasm, practically falling off the redhead's lap. Red lead him away, down the corridor to his dressing room, before pulling him into a wanton kiss. Later he'd want the other dolled up, probably by Candy, who's skills with hair and makeup bordered on the miraculous, but for now, he wanted to fuck the innocence out of Charles Foster Ofdensen. Their lips met fiercely, viciously. The rockstar's tongue invaded the fan's mouth, as he yanked open the other's shirt, ripping fabric and causing buttons to pop off. Charlie moaned, barely registering the ruined garment.

Pickles grinned, slamming the other man against a wall, a hand fisting in the silky brunette locks, as the other worked to undo the belt buckle on Charles's trousers. Charlie groaned as Red divested him of his pants and boxer shorts while he was at it. Red sank his teeth into Charles's neck, making him moan in pleasure. It felt like fire, he'd made out before, but never with a guy, and never like this. He trembled, he ached for more. Red was an animal, a glittering animal, with eyes made up with metallic silver and heavy black liner, lips glossy, a neon green star painted one cheek, and dressed in skin tight leather pants, platform heeled boots, a fishnet top, big hoop earrings, and far too much jewelry to be decent. He was a sight to behold, sex incarnate and all Charles could think was that this rock god wanted _him._

He made a pretty picture, naked, blushing, cock hard, and lips pink and shiny with Red's gloss. All that smooth unmarked pale skin. Pickles licked his lips, unzipping his fly, and taking out his cock.

"Hey der, babe," said the rockstar, in a voice hoarse with desire, "you wanna get on yer knees fer me?" he adds, voice softening, coaxing, as if he's trying to get a shy animal to come to him. Charles bit his lip, before awkwardly getting down on his knees. He licked his lips, looking up, questioningly. He knew what the rockstar wanted, no seventeen year old is so innocent they don't know what a blow job is.

"Well, c'mon, babe," said Red with a smile and a gentle tug on the other's hair. Charles parted his lips, covering his teeth before starting in. The taste was salty, human, a little bitter, not entirely unpleasant. He licked along the underside, sucking, bobbing his head, vaguely remembering seeing a girl pretending to fellate a bottle. He copied what he remembered, and Pickles moaned. It certainly wasn't the best blow job he'd had but for someone so obviously uninitiated, it wasn't half bad, and with a little practice the rockstar could tell he'd be amazing. The redhead moaned, thrusting into the other's mouth, making him choke just a little before finally pulling out. Charles looked up, face flushed, and lips swollen. He was hard, aching for it, cock dripping with desire, The redhead grinned. "Git up, and lay down over there" he said, motioning for Charles to stand. The brunette stood, waiting, expectant as Red dug out lube.

"You wanna be fucked, babe?" asked the redhead, and Charles drunk and wanton, moaned his assent. Red was so goddamn hot, and looking at Charles, sprawled before him. The rockstar grinned like a snake, lubing up his fingers and sliding one into virgin tight Charlie, who moaned, bucking his hips. It felt... odd having something sliding inside him, no pleasure at first, but the fact that it was Pickles made him quiver with desire. Pickles curved his fingers to find the other's core, that little bundle of nerves, and Charles jumped, moaning in ecstasy. Soon enough Charles was ready, and Pickles thrust in, slow and gentle giving him plenty of time to adjust. The brunette's eyes closed, and he moaned low. This is like nothing he'd experienced before, Pickles above him, red hair brushing electric over his skin, and he could hear Motley Crue blasting on the stereo.

"Jesus," he moaned softly, eyes open again, not wanting to miss an instant of this, after all he still thought he was going back to reality after that night. Pickles took n the expression, and kissed him again, passionate, lightly drawing his teeth over the younger man's lower lip, before biting down properly, and then he started to move, slow at first, each slow stroke drawing needy gasps from the brunette.

"Holy," gasped Charlie, and Red grinned.

"Ya like that, babe?" he purred, heavily made up green eyes sparkling, pausing for a moment.

"Yeah, I like it," growls Charles, clearly not happy about Pickles stopping.

"C'mon, you c'n do better than that, dood," said Red with a note of amusement in his voice, "or is mister prep school too fancy t' talk dirty?"

Charles flushed, opening his mouth without knowing quite what to say, but then a moment later his expression changed, and he knew exactly what to say.

"Yeah, I fucking like it, and I fucking want it, I want you to fuck me, I want to be raw and wild for once in my goddamn life, and you've already started so you'd damn well better finish this," he growled, bucking his hips, and giving the other a cocky look to rival the rockstar himself. That did it, Pickles began in earnest, grabbing the brunette by the hair and slamming into him.

"Ya like that, ya little whore?" he demanded, driving his cock deep within the other man until it half hurt, but the pain was exquisite and just heightened the pleasure that coursed through the complete circuit of their bodies.

"Yeah, yeah, oh god yeah," pants Charles, clawing at the rockstar's back, leaving long red marks, bucking his hips up in time, clearly a natural at least in this respect. Pickles moaned, rocked his hips, desperate for more of that tight perfect ass, more of those breathy cries. He conquered the other's body, smashing down Charlie's barriers like a warrior invading a city, and with every thrust Charles lost a little of his shyness, louder, more enthusiastic, more vocal. Lean muscles worked for shared pleasured, driving themselves together to create ecstasy generating friction. Skin gleamed with sweat from the effort, breathing ragged as they got built towards orgasm. Energy building for an explosion. Pleasure reverberating like guitar strings as they snarled and kissed, thought gone, lost in each other. They fucked like animals. For Charles this was unreal, his hero, a man who was to him a legend, was fucking him, and their flesh and blood lust was proof to him that gods walked the earth, that there was no falsehood in rock n' roll mythology.

"Gahd," groaned Pickles, "ya feel so gahd damn good," he added, laying a stinging smack on the other man's ass. Charles could only moan in response, and cling to Pickles, shuddering, desperate to finish, desire was the most exquisite. The brunette knew he'd come the second the redhead touched his cock, trying his best to hold back even now, wanting to extend this moment.

"I'm so close," cried Charles, overwhelmed by the sensation, by the situation, by the utter unbelievable beauty of the moment. Finally, Pickles wraps a hand around the brunette's cock, stroking in time with his rough thrusts.

"Then fuckin' come fer me," said the rockstar, and Charles came shaking, moaning, practically sobbing as he spilt himself across his stomach. Pickles grinned, pulling out to jack himself off and finish all over Charlie's face, before they fell together panting.

"You're amazing," managed Charles as he cleaned himself up with the wreckage of his shirt.

"Yer naht bahd yerself, kid," said the redhead with a laugh, "sahrry about the shirt," he added, giving the garment a rueful glance, before lighting himself a cigarette, and offering one to Charlie, who took it, took a drag and coughed, which drew a laugh from the redhead.

"Gahd, yer cute," he said, shaking his head, "all innocent and whatever, it's fuckin' adorable."

Charles smiled.

"Well, apparently not that innocent now," he said laughing.

"Nah, yer still pretty innocent, compared t' the rest of us," replied the rockstar, "what er' you planning to do now that yer out of school?"

"I want to go into entertainment law and management," said the brunette with a sigh, "I mean really I'd rather be a rockstar, but my parents'd flip, and well... not everyone's you. I'd just settle for... being involved you know?"

The redhead's eyes lit up, oh what a fortuitous meeting. A fun new toy for Red, and for Charlie, an internship that'd look incredible on college applications... not to mention the chance to follow his favorite band on the road.

"Is that so, huh?" said Red with a grin, "well I mean we're up for takin' an intern or somethin, our manager dood, Johnny'd be happy to teach you stuff. We'd need t' leave tomorrow morning, but yer a boardin' school kid, you prolly have yer shit packed already."

Charles blinked, and had to restrain himself to keep from acting like an over excited idiot.

"I- wow, uh, fuck yeah," he exclaimed, "my stuff's all in my car... just clothes and books and records, but I can send a lot of it home."

Red nodded, "cool, wha'd y' drive?" he asked.

"A sixty-seven Chevy convertible, fire engine red," he said with a grin, "restored it myself."

"Nice, real nice," said the rockstar appreciatively, "I have a lotta cars, lately I've been fond a' this vintage mustang. We'll make sure it gets taken care of, babe, n' room n' board n' whatever. Johnny's been' whinin' about an assistant ferever so, yer prahbably gahnna be a gahd send."

Charles nodded, overwhelmed by everything that was happening and still quite drunk.

"Uh, yeah," he said trying to keep up "I mean I'll have to call my parents. I can be here awhile, summer and longer, I was planning to take off for a semester abroad, but... this is better."

Pickles smirked, so he was his for the summer at least, and possibly, if possible longer. "Sounds great, dood," he said, grinning, before running his fingers through Charlie's blunt cut brown hair, examining him.

Pickles hummed, "we're gahnna have t' do somethin' about yer look, we gaht an image t' uphold," he added with a laugh, "I'm gahnna send ya t' Candy and he'll get ya fixed up."

Charles blinked, the idea of being prettied up by the drummer felt odd, sudden, as if he was being inducted into the band. Still, he agreed if he could have another drink first, to kill his nerves. Pickles chuckled.

"Y' cahn always have more booze, babe," he said, helping Charles get partially dressed and helping him up.

Charles allowed himself to be lead to the car in Red's leather jacket, and then taken over to the hotel, where Candy, Snizzy, and one of the groupies were all tangled naked on a bed together. Charlie blushed a little, still shy about walking around semi-topless and seeing his favorite band in such intimate positions, Sammy and Snizzy's affectionate pose making it obvious the pair were a doting couple. He felt he was invading into some sanctum in which he, a mere mortal, did not belong, and yet by Red's side he felt elevated. Red snapped his fingers and the other men jumped.

"Candy, I need ya t' fix Charlie here up t' look haht, hair n' makeup, n' whatever," he said gesturing at the brunette, "he's comin' with us ahn tour, n' he needs t' fit in."

Candy stretched himself languidly before getting up. "He's already hot, Red," said the blond with a laugh, "but I'll doll him up for you."

"Come on then," said the drummer, motioning for Charles to follow him into an adjoining room. While the rest of the band smoked and played cards, Candy got Charles cleaned up, bleached and layered, waxed, polished, plucked, preened, powdered, glossed, lined, rouged, pierced, teased, fluffed, sprayed, dressed, and generally transformed from stiffly dressed valedictorian to slutty glam rocker.

Candy reappeared about three and a half hours later, to find the others dozing in various states of drunkenness and undress. He cleared his throat and they woke.

"Gentlemen," he said in an amused tone, "may I present, the new meat. Charlie c'mon out here, babe."

Pickles's jaw dropped. He was... stunning.

-TBC-

Please do review this, and I do like constructive criticism


	2. Chapter 2: He's My Tainted Angel

Charles strutted in from the other room, a sight to behold. Hair layered, bleached platinum blonde, and teased up, face made up with Candy's consummate skill, smokey dark liner and gold glitter bringing out his long lashed forest green eyes, full lips painted a glossy pink and his cheekbones emphasized with a little blush. His ears were pierced and from one dangled an ornate chandelier earring. He wore a black top shredded to expose his midriff with his newly pierced navel, odd rings on every finger, skin tight red vinyl pants, that fit him like a second skin, black platform heeled boots, and a belt decked with silver disks with a long silk scarf tied to hang from a belt loop, and far too many bracelets. He looked... hot as hell, and more than that his attitude seemed to have changed, gone was the shyness, the reservation. He flicked back his hair and gave Pickles a sultry look that said "I know just how damn hot I am."

"Damn," said Pickles slowly.

"Yeah," agreed Bullets.

"Bloody," said Tony, looking at Candy in wonderment, "how the 'ell do you do that in a couple of hours?"

Candy simply grinned, and shrugged one shoulder. "I dunno, he's like... easy to work with," he said, "oh, and Red, you'd better fucking share after all the work I did."

The redhead had to recover himself for a bit before being able to speak.

"Uh, yeah," said the vocalist, eyes running again over Charles's lithe, scantily clad form. The new minted blonde sauntered over, one foot in front of the other, hips moving sinfully, giving Red a smoldering look. Had Candy taught him to do that? It didn't matter where he'd learnt it, the effect was the same, Red's skin tight pants became a bit tighter.

"What the hell did he do t' ya, blahndie?" asked the vocalist, looking up in wicked wonderment at the changed Charlie.

Charles raised an eyebrow, and parted those perfect lips.

"Well, babe, a little confidence goes a long way," he purred, leaning down close to the redhead, a hand bunching in his shirt to pull him a little closer, "beyond that it was all a matter of image and attitude."

The redhead just nodded, staring up at him. It was painfully obvious that this one was going to be a good lay, and jesus, dressed up like this, his little Charlie looked like he might have belonged on stage with the rest of them. He was fucking beautiful, with that rock n' roll walk, and a body that invited lust from all quarters. Before Pickles got a chance to think more about the beauty of his new toy, he found himself drawn into a kiss flavored with liquor and lipgloss. Charles smelt of hairspray, makeup, and cigarette smoke, a heady mixture, especially blended with the wonderfully clean scent of Charles's skin, in the end it was sexy as hell. There was something glorious in knowing what this electric gypsy whore had been only a few hours ago. Pickles was to be the first to get to touch him like this, to introduce him to all the deliciously corrupt carnal pleasures that went hand in hand with the Snakes N Barrels brand of rock-stardom.

Charles's kiss lingered, tingling on the lips even after he'd pulled back to gaze into the redhead's eyes, his expression indicating he wanted more and was ready and willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. Pickles smirked, suddenly finding her was eager to assert his dominance. He stood up, pressing his body against the blonde's, one hand moving to grip the blonde's hair, backing him into a wall. The redhead might have been shorter than the blonde, but his expression said he meant business, and with the drum lessons Candy had been giving him, and Red's long experience in fights, Charles honestly was no match for him. Not that he minded, he growled and fought back, trying to escape the other man's grip, even as he ground against him. Pickles smirked, biting into the side of his neck, drawing his teeth over the soft flesh, dragging the blonde's head to the side to give him better access. He sucked, bit, and generally abused until Charles was a shuddering wreck.

"Yer mine," purred the redhead. He'd let Blondie top later, but for now he would claim him. Charles growled, arching his back, trying to twist away, but Red was far too quick.

"Oh no ya goddamn don't," snaps Pickles, slamming him into a the wall.

Charles lets out a grunt, air forced out of his lungs as he hits the surface. Suddenly, Red had an idea, a wicked delicious idea; he knew just how to repay Candy.

"Hey, Candy," he called, beckoning him over, "I think blahndie here wants t' say thank ya."

"Git on yer knees fer Candy, babe" ordered Red, giving the other man's hair a little tug forcing him downwards,

Charles flushed, suddenly shy again, as Candy came over. The drummer knew well what Pickles intended, and unzipped his jeans accordingly.

Charlie looked to Pickles questioningly, but the redhead just grinned.

"Go ahn, babe," said the vocalist, waving him forward, "I aint' the jealous type."

The ex-brunette gave Red a raised brow, and licked teasingly along the underside of Candy's cock, making the drummer moan, before ever so lightly taking it into his mouth. He swirled his tongue round the head, taking the well endowed musician as deep as he could, making sure he was putting on a show that would drive Red wild. He pulled the drummer's hips closer, making Candy whimper and throw his head back, practically pleading. Charlie dug his nails into the other man's hips, leaving red crescent indents from the pressure. Sammy gasped, giving Charlie's hair a little yank. "Holy fuck," he gasped, practically unable to breathe with the utter pleasure rocking his body.

Red was agape at the scene before him, Candy had to have given Charles some pointers, either that or a little added confidence went a long way when it came to Charlie's blow job skills.

Candy writhed, thrusting his hips eagerly, fucking Charlie's hot wet mouth with enthusiastic abandon, moaning, practically losing his mind. Pickles had to sit down, a hand on his crotch, giving his cock the occasional rub through criminally tight pants.

He gave a low whistle. "Dood," he said shaking his head, "this shit is better th'n porn. Tony, are ya gettin this?"

Tony perked up, turning his attention to the pair.

"Bloody," he said, licking his lips, "you've got a damned good eye there, Red."

Red smirked, "If I'm feelin nice later I might pass him round," he said, as Charlie worked Candy's pants down while the drummer trembled with pleasure, occasionally glancing at Red as if to say "what the hell did you bring home?"

The vocalist raised an eyebrow watching as Charles divested Candy of his pants and dug his nails into the other man's hips in such a way as to draw a lengthy moan of pleasure from him. Snizzy watched intently, watching this new minted groupie with his lover had him hard as rock. Candy arched his lean back on the brink of orgasm, when Charles pulled back, looking at Pickles, his lips swollen and his eyes glassy with desire.

Pickles could resist no longer and walked over to claim his prize, yanking the other out of his jeans but insisting he put the boots back on.

"Git on all fours," he said, forcing Charlie to assume the position, before Tony tossed the vocalist a bottle of lube, "and keep suckin' Candy's cahck."

Charles obeyed, licking lightly, teasing, not wanting the drummer to come just yet, as Pickles slid fingers into him. He arched his back, thrusting against the redhead's knowing digits, letting out a little pleasure gasp that made the vocalist shudder with desire.

Candy groaned, giving Charlie's hair a quick yank. Pickles growled, fingernails digging into the blonde's hips.

"Fuck yea," said Tony, nodding in approval, before taking another swig of the rum, as Pickles finally thrust into his new toy, making Charles groan around the drummer's cock. Charles was utterly overwhelmed, letting the drummer and vocalist have their way, too dazed with pleasure to do anything but shudder and gasp. He groaned, rocking his hips slightly back towards Pickles, body begging for more. Pickles takes the invitation gladly and starts moving faster, giving Charlie's ass a quick slap.

Charlie groaned, working his mouth over the drummer's cock eagerly. The idea of making Sammy... Sammy of Snakes N' Barrels come, while he had Pickles inside him. It was an erotic dream made trashy flashy rock n' roll reality, it was gritty, dirty, perfect as he rocked between the two men, lost in the moment.

Pickles reached around to stroke the other's cock, drawing moans from the dazed blonde. Bliss was close, shimmering gold flakes glittering in the opium smoke and decadence. Candy shook, throwing his head back, gasping as Charles tried to take him down his throat. Candy grabbed him by the hair, as Charlie choked on his cock. Pickles was fucking him roughly then, nails leaving red marks down the groupie's back. The redhead moaned, the tight perfection of the blonde's body around his cock had him practically out of his mind with lust. He was so perfectly dirty-innocent, thrusting his hips back against the vocalist's, moving with a sensual fluidity that sweet little just ex-virgin's shouldn't be allowed to have.

"Yer such a fuckin' slut, yer just beggin' t' be fucked," growled the rockstar,voice rough with desire. Charles gazed up at Candy with lust glazed eyes, utterly blissed out as he sucked the drummer off.

"I'm close, god, don't you dare fucking stop, whore," groaned a shuddering Candy.

Charles continued, bobbing his head like a good little groupie. Pickles slammed into him, fingers flying over the blonde's cock as over the neck of his guitar, playing him like an instrument, and Charles swore he could feel the notes resonating through his body, making him tremble.

Candy was so close he could almost taste it, shaking with pleasure, that hot, wet, perfect mouth surrounding his cock had him practically sobbing for release, but one look from Snizzy told him he wasn't allowed yet. Finally though, the brunette sauntered over yanking the drummer's head back and kissing him hard on the mouth. Red grinned, in his mind this just kept getting better, if only Tony hadn't been too drunk to stand he could have turned breaking the new meat into a bonding activity for the band. He didn't mind having Charles mostly to himself though, not with those sweet little gasps he kept making around Candy's cock, and the way his hips bucked against Red's with every thrust.

Candy's hips bucked, as his lips met the rhythm guitarist's with near violent passion, his arms around the other man's neck. Snizzy had his lover by the hair, biting his lower lip until he tasted blood before whispering hoarsely into his ear, "Come in the little slut's mouth for me, babe."

At those words, Candy came with a strangled cry, bucking into Charlie's mouth. Every muscle in his lithe body tensing as he spasmed in climax, the world turning dizzy on its axis as the drummer's back arched, pleasure coruscating, reverberating with the universe as he spilt himself down Charlie's willing throat.

Charles swallowed, eagerly, almost reflexively as the redhead fucked him senseless.

"Theet's reet, babe," purred the vocalist, voice ragged, eyeliner sweat smeared, "swallow like a good bitch."

He was so close then, aching for it, aching for him. Charles was lost to real life, after tonight the outside world would pale in comparison to the dangerous dirty glamour of rock n' roll. He needed this now, the contact high of drug dazed skin sweating against his, needed the Jack Daniels and cigarette scent of fame on his lover's breath, needed to wrap his shapely legs around the waists of rock gods, open himself up and let in these men, more forces of nature than human being, arching his back, taut as the string of a guitar, and he could feel himself ascending, climbing towards release, shifting and twisting in the vocalist's grasp, the sensation, the ecstasy almost too much to bear. Pickles too is over the edge, acting on instinct, rational thought long out the window.

Feral snarls slip from between the redhead's lips as he thrust faster, harder, more unevenly, still stroking the brunette's cock in time with his violent movements. Charles panted, everything was getting hazy, his reality reduced to Pickles, the other man's body against his. Charles looked up at a dazed Candy riding Bullets languidly as the brunette smoked a cigarette and told the drummer how to move in a sultry slow drip honey tone. Charles barely noticed them, his entire world the rising guitar solo of Pickles's touch. Finally the redhead flipped him round without removing his cock, fucking him harder and faster with better leverage, gazing down at him with fire in his eyes.

"Do y' fuckin' understand yer place now, bitch?" he demanded, slamming into him, stroking his cock, and all Charlie could do was nod. He gasped, he sobbed, he writhed beneath the other. Pleasure was building, the earth was shaking. Finally though, he came, sobbing bucking, losing himself in the moment. It was perfectly, utterly and completely perfect. Silvery threads of pleasure reverberating through him, heart fluttering like a bird in the cage of his ribs.

He came, calling the other man's name, and bucking his hips up, losing himself to lust, spattering their stomachs with semen.

Charlie's spasming sent Pickles over the edge screaming his name, tearing scratches in soft skin with his nails.

"Gahd, Fuck," he cried out, thrusting a few final times before collapsing atop him, panting, exhausted and happy.

Charles groaned softly, content, running his hands over the other man's back.


End file.
